


"The Sound Of Your Heart"

by prodigalpoet



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Feelings of Shock, POV Eve Polastri, POV Second Person, POV Villanelle | Oksana Astankova, Post-Bridge, feelings of anger, feelings of betrayal, post-season 3 finale, the 1975
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:53:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26530192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prodigalpoet/pseuds/prodigalpoet
Summary: Immediately following the interaction on the bridge. Eve asks Villanelle to come with her to her flat so she can pick up a few things before they rent a room somewhere and figure out what the next step is. Villanelle finds something at Eve's flat that makes her second-guess everything Eve told her on the bridge, especially the comment about her future.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 128
Kudos: 150





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [karliewhatyouwant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/karliewhatyouwant/gifts).



> Piece named after The 1975 "The Sound" track
> 
> First chapter bought to you by The 1975 track titled "Me" ***trigger warning regarding the song lyrics: mention of self-harm; please feel free to skip over the lyrics if necessary***
> 
> Videos: 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hu0xlyLwK7Q
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MtOc93BLQkU (this is a cover but it's exquisite and 100% worth watching)
> 
> Lyrics:  
> I got a plane in the middle of the night, don't you mind  
> I nearly killed somebody, don't you mind, don't you mind  
> I gave you something you can never give back, don't you mind  
> You've seen your face like a heart attack, don't you mind, don't you mind  
> I was late but I arrived  
> I'm sorry but I'd rather be getting high than watching the family die  
> Exaggerate and you and I  
> Oh I think I did something terrible to your body, don't you mind  
> I put your mother through hell, don't you mind  
> I hate your brother as well, don't you mind, don't you mind  
> Oh I was thinking about killing myself, don't you mind  
> I love you, don't you mind, don't you mind  
> I put your mother through hell, don't you mind  
> I hate your brother as well, don't you mind, don't you mind  
> Oh I was thinking bout killing myself, don't you mind  
> I love you, don't you mind, don't you mind

"I really need to shower. Would you mind grabbing the things from the top of my table and shoving them into this duffel?," Eve asks you as you stand in front of her sofa, hands shoved deep into the pockets of your yellow coat.

"Okay," you reply, taking the bag from her and unzipping it, your eyes grazing over her body as she turns from you and disappears into the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar.

You wonder if she's leaving the door open on purpose, inviting you to step inside, but quickly shake the thought from your mind as you realize she's worried about time. It would be stupid to make a move on her now. Maybe later, after you find a nice hotel and shower.

When you turn towards her bedside table, your eyes instantly focus on the heart sitting on top of a black notebook. You sit down on her bed and press the button, smiling a little at the sound of your voice rising from your palm. You're about to place the heart into the bag when your name, scrawled at the top of a folded piece of paper stuck between the pages of the notebook, catches your attention.

Your heart starts to beat faster as you open the notebook and flip through the pages. Your palms feel clammy and your mouth feels dry when you realize every page is about you.

I'm going to find the thing she loves the most and kill it.

Calculated.

Coldblooded.

Manipulative.

Obsessive.

Psychopath.

What does she want??? 

She wants me to be a mess, scared, alone. But I'm like her, now. I'm not afraid of anything.

You set down the book, your breath coming out of your body in short, painful spurts, and stand up. You pick up the heart from the space next to you on the bed and return it to its original resting place before setting the duffel bag on the floor, walking over to the door, shoving your feet into your combat boots, and stepping into the hall.

Your head hurts from the barrage of thoughts flying through your mind: Was she trying to bait you this entire time so she could corner you and cut off your escape route? Is she working with them? Has she been lying to you about everything?

You walk until you flag down a taxi and ask the driver to drop you off at the closest hotel. You don't even care if it has a five star rating or if anyone will be waiting for you when you disembark. 

You don't answer your phone when she calls you. You don't read the text messages dinging in your pocket. You close your eyes and try to block out all of the images that are resurfacing.

Your mother's face.

The ballroom.

Her face.

The bridge.

Your heart tightens. You wish it was tiny and plastic so you could pull it out of your body and throw it into the Thames. Hide it within the depths of a locked drawer. Bury it in a back garden beneath piles of soil and discarded dog bones.

You scratch at your thighs to will away the tears threatening to fall down your face. When the driver pulls up to a hotel, you feel like you cannot breathe and almost fall over when you step out.

"Are you okay, miss?," the driver calls out to you, gratefully accepting the bills you shove into his hand.

You can't answer his question so you simply turn around to face another entryway, an exit out of a future you were willing to consider.

You walk forward without looking back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eve tracks Villanelle down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "And don't fall in love with the moment/And think you're in love with the girl." - The 1975, "She's American"
> 
> This chapter is from Eve's POV.
> 
> I apologize for the continued angst.
> 
> Things will get better, eventually.
> 
> Music heals.
> 
> Listen to some music and feel free to drop your favorite tracks and/or artists in the comments.
> 
> Thank you for reading, as always.
> 
> Find me on twitter if you want to swap playlists @compassionchasr 
> 
> xx.

"Where is she???," you fervently whisper to Bear as he taps away at a keyboard and sighs heavily on the other end of the phone.

"If you stop interrupting me every few seconds, I'll be able to let you know. Where are you, anyway? Why are you whispering?"

"I'm sitting on my bed with a towel around me. So if anybody charges through the door and decides to kill me now, well, they'll be in for a nice surprise as this towel drops and I flash them."

A dry laugh escapes your lips as you close your eyes and shudder with the thought of Villanelle having a mental breakdown and running off into the night, never to be seen or heard of again.

"Okay, got it. Will send you a text on WhatsApp."

"Thanks, Bear."

"Don't get killed, yeah? There's only so much me and Jamie are being paid to do and looking for your body doesn't fall onto that list."

"Got it."

Your fingers quickly pull up the WhatsApp message informing you of her location and you somehow manage to shove your limbs into a clean outfit and throw your still-damp hair into a bun on top of your head. A few minutes later, you're walking out of your flat with a duffel bag filled with your belongings , towards a waiting Uber.

Twenty-two minutes later...

Instead of entering into an awkward conversation with the receptionist who is staring at her phone and playing Candy Crush (from the sounds of it), you decide to walk down every hallway and call Villanelle's number so that when her phone rings, you can knock on the door and ask her to let you in.

You find her room on Floor Five, her ringtone jarring you from your exhausted but frenzied state of mind.

"Hello?," you call through the door, rapping it quickly with your knuckles. "V? It's me, Eve."

You press your ear to the door and try to listen for any movement.

"Can you open the door please? I'm shivering out here."

"I think you should leave. Go home."

Her voice is low and the indifferent, cold tone gives you chills. Something bad obviously happened between the time you walked into your bathroom and now. You bite your lip and try to figure out what to say next. You picture her sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting. 

"I can't turn around now. There's no home to go back to."

"I can't help you."

"Villanelle, please. I don't know what happened but I really would like to try and figure it out. With you."

"Why."

"Because..."

"Because?"

"I care about you."

You hear her laughing and then the crash of something. You jump back from the door, startled, your heat beating like it's about to fall out of your chest.

"Villanelle!," you exclaim, your voice rising above a whisper now, as you strain your eyes and look through the peephole with your right one.

You almost fall backwards when a book hits the peephole of the door, aimed right at your head.

"Go. Home."

"WHY!?," you shout, kicking the door with your right foot.

"I SAID SO."

"NO."

"YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT ME. I'M A COLDBLOODED CALCULATING PSYCHOPATH."

Oh. Shit. 

She found the book your therapist gave to you. The one where she directed you to write all of the horrible things you thought about Villanelle after she shot you in Rome. The book you hadn't written in since you kissed her on the bus.

"You found the book."

Silence.

"Villanelle, if you let me in, I can explain."

"I think you've used your words enough already."

"Please..."

You wait a few minutes before turning so your back is against the door. You slide down its length and try not to cry. By this time, fatigue is making your eyes droop and your limbs feel like they are being stretched out.

When the door opens, you fall backwards with a squeal and stare directly up into her unreadable face.

She turns quickly before you can look at her for longer and you reach forward to pull your duffel bag into the room before shutting and deadbolting the door.

She's wearing a black tanktop and the same dark pants she was wearing earlier. Her yellow coat covers the floor at the bottom of the bed and you reach down to pick it up and drape it over the back of a chair.

"Can I tell you something? About the book you found?"

She doesn't reply and continues to look out the window despite the curtains being closed.

"My therapist gave that to me. After Rome. I started seeing someone because I was having nightmares and couldn't sleep. I haven't written in that thing for awhile."

"Since when?"

"Since I kissed you on the bus."

"How do I know you don't view me as those things anymore?"

Her voice cracks, then, and you feel like your heart is doing the same.

"Because I'm here."

"I don't know if I can trust you."

"I know. But that doesn't mean I am going to leave. Unless you want me to, then I will."

Silence.

She turns towards you and glances at your briefly before shuffling to the bed and lying down over the covers.

"Do you...do you want me to leave?," you ask, cautiously approaching the bed and sitting at the bottom of it, to her left.

She doesn't reply and a few seconds later, she is asleep, her chest slowly rising and falling, seemingly taking your heart along for a ride.

You place your elbows on your knees and the sobs come out now, faster and heavier than they ever have before.

She's in pain. You did that. 

She looks so small, lost, abandoned, vulnerable.

You want to lie down next to her and take all of her into your arms, whisper to her that things will get better. But you don't know if they will. Maybe this is the one night you will have together. A night undisturbed (as of yet) by strangers who want her dead. Or maybe even the both of you dead. 

You slide off the bed so that your back is leaning against its base. You're about to fall asleep when you hear her make a strangled cry, as if someone is stepping over her throat. 

Turning, you clamber up the bed with surprisingly agility for this exhausted version of yourself at 2:31 am, and you place your hand over the curve of her cheek.

"I'm here," you whisper. 

Her wide eyes drink the sight of you in and she nods imperceptibly, acknowledging your presence for the first time since you entered the room.

"Do you have any water?," you ask her.

Your eyes look at the table besides the bed. Seeing no empty cup, you slide off the bed and walk into the bathroom. You remove the plastic from a cup and fill it with water from tap before walking back into the room and handing her the cup.

"Thank you," she says quietly, placing the cup on the table. 

After eyeing your outfit, she asks you if you want to change. You take this question as approval for you to stay.

A few minutes later, you get into bed and lie next to her, mimicking her pose. You fold your arms over your bellybutton and try to smooth out your breaths, ragged from shock and sleep-deprivation.

She turns so her back is towards you and then she starts to cry into the pillow. Your heart plummets like the blade of a guillotine and this time you don't bother asking her for permission to do anything. You slide your arm around her waist so that it is resting beneath her own and you place your chin above her shoulder.

"I'm here, okay? I'm sorry. I don't think of those things when I look at you."

She nods and you turn your head, pressing a light kiss just below her earlobe.

Four hours later...

You wake with a start and you realize the bed is empty except for you. She's gone. There's no trace of her anywhere. Your duffel bag is where you left it, so are your shoes. The cup she drank out of is the only proof that she was ever here. You grab her pillow and pull it towards your face. Her perfume still lingers. You scream, then, pounding the pillow with your fists before sinking back into the mattress. When a piece of paper falls out of the pillow, you grab it greedily.

"I find it hard to say bye" is scrawled on a piece of hotel paper with her distinctive loopy handwriting. The ink blurs together when your tears hit the page. She knew you would pick up her pillow in her absence. She knows you, unlike anybody else. This realization hits you like a stubborn fist and pain thrums through your veins like the beat of a song you keep replaying, a song whose lyrics you know by heart. You crumple up the paper and toss it to the floor.

You wish you had never met her.

But you hope you always will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I pulled the quote from the paper Eve finds at the end directly from The 1975 track "Medicine."
> 
> Video:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lur5B3a4_fk
> 
> Lyrics:  
> I find it hard to say bye  
> Even in the state of you and I  
> And how can I refuse?  
> Yeah, you rid me of the blues  
> Ever since you came into my life  
> In case you're my medicine (Yeah, you're a medicine)  
> Yeah, you're a medicine (You're a medicine)  
> I, I wanna marry you  
> Said I, I adore you  
> And that's all I have to say bye-bye  
> And you opiate this hazy head of mine  
> In case you're my medicine (Yeah, you're a medicine)  
> Yeah, you're a medicine (You're a medicine)  
> In case you're my medicine (Yeah, you're a medicine)  
> Yeah, you're a medicine  
> (You're a medicine, yeah you're a medicine)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Villanelle leaves Eve to meet with Hélène.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is in Villanelle's POV.
> 
> Chapter bought to you by The 1975 track "Heart Out"
> 
> Video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d32VfZ5Pf0w
> 
> Lyrics:
> 
> Rushing in a small town  
> I forgot to call you  
> I'm running low on "know-how"  
> This beat's made for two
> 
> 'Cause I remember that I like you  
> No matter what I found  
> She said, "It's nice to have your friends round.  
> We're watching the television with no sound."
> 
> It's just you and I tonight  
> Why don't you figure my heart out?  
> It's just you and I tonight  
> Why don't you figure my heart out?
> 
> Push your lack of chest out, look at my hair  
> God, I love the way you love yourself  
> Your obsession with rocks and brown  
> And fucking the whole town's  
> A reflection on your mental health
> 
> 'Cause I remember when I found you  
> Much younger than you are now  
> And once we started having friends round  
> You created a television of your mouth
> 
> It's just you and I tonight  
> Why don't you figure my heart out?  
> It's just you and I tonight  
> Why don't you figure my heart out?
> 
> You got something to say?  
> Why don't you speak it out loud, instead of living in your head?  
> It's always the same.  
> Why don't you take your heart out, instead of living in your head?
> 
> It's just you and I tonight  
> Why don't you figure my heart out?  
> It's just you and I tonight  
> Why don't you figure my heart out?

You wake up and find yourself facing her, your arm wrapped protectively around her waist with your fingers cradling the curve of her lower back. Her hair is splayed out across her pillow; she must have lost her hairband at some point during the night. She looks peaceful, serene, and you want to take a photo of her to memorialize this sacred moment where neither you nor her are being pushed or pulled in different directions.

You lean forward and brush your lips against her forehead very softly before pulling back and getting out of bed. You walk into the bathroom to brush your teeth and shower and then you slip back into your clothes and put your hair up. Before putting on your yellow coat, you find the hotel pad and write her a note, sticking it into your pillow.

You know she will find it. And because you know she knows you, you know she will try to find you, hunt you down to the ends of the earth, to protect you. Tragically, she does care about you, you realize this now. You could see it in her eyes last night. Worse enough, she might even love you. Which is why you need to leave. To finish off the people who want you dead and probably now, even her. So that the next book she writes about you contains different words. After all, she's wrong. You are afraid of something. Of hearing about her getting killed. Even worse, dragging her into the line of fire with you and then witnessing her getting killed. 

You slide your sore feet into your combat boots and stand up. Then, you pull a wad of cash out of your pocket and slip it into her duffel, behind the pink plastic heart lying against a bundle of her clothes.

Your heart pounds faster. If you don't leave now, you will disintegrate. You turn your head to look at her sleeping form one more time and then you stride purposefully towards the door, closing it gently behind you so as not to wake her up.

You text Hélène when you exit the hotel. Seconds later, she sends you an address. You know she is going to be displeased about Rhian but you don't care. The only person capable of hurting you is in the building behind you, fast asleep and dead to the world. You hail a taxi and give the driver an address, turning your head slightly as the car pulls away to look up at the middle of the building where you suspect the fifth floor is.

You pull your phone out again and block her number from it. It will be easier this way, no distractions. 

"You are not a child," your mother's voice rings in your mind and you almost drop the phone.

You close your eyes, remembering the heat of the flames against your back, the coil of heat that your mother's words wrapped around your chest.

You pick up the phone again and unblock her number, the loss of her body next to your own suddenly washing over you in waves.

You hit your head against the window just so you can feel something else. Anything else. 

Ding.

Eve: Where did you go?

Ding.

Eve: Can I meet you somewhere?

The taxi pulls up to a nondescript building and you pay the driver before stepping out of the car and walking upstairs and into the first room on the right, flanked by two armed men.

Hélène is seated at a table and motions for you to take a seat in front of her. You don't hear half the things she says. You look out the window behind her large head and your eyes focus on a bird sitting on the sill. You hardly even flinch when she approaches you from behind and places you in a headlock, muttering above your head that she does not like disobedience.

"You will fulfill these assignments for me and then you can do whatever it is you want to do. You're already ruined. But you will compensate me for your removal of Rhian. So do as I tell you to do and do not disobey me again or I will make sure that you and your little friend will be taken care of. Understood?"

"As you wish, boss," you sneer as the guards escort you out of the room, down the stairs, and push you outside.

You pull out your phone from your pocket and read the last message Eve sent. It's an address. She wants you to meet her there.

You think of her pacing the floors of this place, waiting for the sound of your footsteps outside, glancing out the windows to see if any of the cars passing by are being driven by you. Your heart drops, yet again, and you know that you need to see her to say goodbye. 

By the time you've managed to get a hold of a car, and drive over to the cottage located in the middle of the English countryside, it's dark. You knock on the door, hesitancy tailing you like a stray, and exhale a breath of relief when she opens it, her forehead creased with worry and her watery eyes telling you she hasn't slept.

The second you walk through the doorway and she locks the door behind you, her fists find your chest and she yells at you, pushing you against the wall and asking you where you went and why you didn't wake her up to take her along with you.

You don't say anything and let her pummel your chest until she stops of her own accord.

"And what was that note about? You were planning to just skip town or country and never see me again? Is that what you want?? And the money, too? You think you can just leave me a ridiculous sum of cash and expect that I'm going to be okay without you here? I'm just going to buy myself a designer purse and be fine!?"

You shake your head and gently take hold of her fists, kissing the knuckles on the right before doing the same with the left.

"There's some business I need to take care of. I'm leaving tomorrow," you murmur. You can feel your heart spilling out of your chest like mercury as the weight of your words impacts her entire being.

"And what if you don't come back?," she whispers, eyes wide, body trembling.

"I will."

"How do you know that? How are you so sure you're going to be safe?"

"Because now I have something to come back to," you state, voice wavering despite the surge of confidence the way she is acting has made you feel.

"I want to come with you."

"You can't," you assert, letting her lead you over to a sofa.

"Villanelle. When I woke up and you weren't there, I was mad. I was mad and then I was sad and then I was mad. What I told you on the bridge, it's still true today just like it was yesterday. When I think about my future, all I see is your face, over and over again. What you read in that notebook, those were thoughts I had before, after Rome. You said yesterday you didn't know if you could trust me. You can. Let me come with you, please."

You close your eyes to blink away the tears but they come anyway. Your mother's voice rings in your mind yet again, making your entire body feel like it is breaking.

"Can I help you get out of these clothes? No offense, but they stink. I don't think we can wash the coat but everything else, we should probably throw into the machine. I have some clothes you can wear for tonight and tomorrow."

A smile crosses your face and for a second, the tears stop. 

You stand up and let her lead you into a bedroom with an attached bathroom. She helps you out of your clothes and nods her head towards the bathroom.

"Will you be okay in there?," she asks, head tilting to the side, eyes still full.

"Yes," you reply, self-conscious of the fact that you're standing naked in front of the only person who has ever cared about you.

"I'm going to be in the kitchen, looking for some food to make. Just, um, shout if you need anything, okay?"

Her eyes flitter over your body before she exits the room. Thankfully, she isn't there to notice the goosebumps that appear everywhere on your skin following her wandering gaze.

You step into the bathroom and turn the water in the bathtub on, to as hot as it can go, before stepping beneath the showerhead and closing your eyes.

You have no idea what tomorrow will bring but for now, being with her, is enough to ease the pain coursing through your veins.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Villanelle leaves Hélène and reunites with Eve.
> 
> Conversations and confessions are exchanged.
> 
> This time, a proper goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter bought to you by The 1975 track "By Your Side" and is written in Eve's POV. 
> 
> Lyrics:  
> You think I'd leave your side, baby  
> You know me better than that  
> You think I'd leave you down when you're down on your knees  
> I wouldn't do that  
> I'll tell you when you're right  
> And if only you could see into me  
> Oh, when you're cold  
> I'll be there  
> Hold you tight to me  
> When you're on the outside, baby and you can't get in  
> I will show you, you're so much better than you know  
> When you're lost and you're alone and you can't get back again  
> I will find you  
> Darling and I will bring you home  
> And if you want to cry  
> I am here to dry your eyes  
> And in no time, you'll be fine  
> You think I'd leave your side, baby  
> You know me better than that  
> You think I'd leave you down when you're down on your knees  
> I wouldn't do that  
> I'll tell you when you're wrong  
> And if only you could see into me  
> Oh, when you're cold, I'll be there  
> To me

You leave the grilled cheese and tomato sandwiches in the oven and vegetarian sausages on the stove so the food can stay warm before walking into the bedroom and standing outside of the bathroom door. The water is turned off but you can hear Villanelle moving around.

"V? I have some clothes for you, on the bed."

"Okay."

"Do you...need any help? The water is off?"

"I'll be out in a second."

"Okay."

You leave the room and walk into the kitchen, feeling nervous and shy. You decide to boil the water for tea and you pace the kitchen while you wait. Five minutes later, you place the sandwiches and sausages and cups of tea on the round table in the kitchen and wait for Villanelle to show up.

You can't help but smile when she walks into the kitchen. Your t-shirt hangs right above her hips and your joggers end before her ankles. Her eyes are red-rimmed but a grin is ghosting her lips as she takes a seat next to you and eyes the plate of sandwiches approvingly.

"I didn't have much time when I dropped by the store earlier. Sorry," you apologize but she dismisses you with a wave, biting into a sandwich and finishing it within a matter of seconds.

"Is this for me?," she asks, motioning to the other sandwich on the plate and glancing at you.

"Yes, you can eat that. I already ate. I was worried earlier. I didn't think you'd show up," you explain, hurriedly drinking your tea so your vulnerability isn't leaking all over the place.

Fifteen minutes later, she leans back in the chair and sighs contentedly, the plates in front of her wiped clean.

"Was it okay?," you ask hesitantly, knowing her voracious appetite for lots of food, especially good food.

She nods slowly and you feel a shift in energy. She seems better now that she is full. Less withdrawn and more focused, almost shark-like. As if she knows what you are thinking, she opens her eyes and stares unabashedly at your face, her eyes immediately traveling from your eyes and down to your lips.

"Do you need anything else?," you ask, swallowing down the prickling nervousness you feel throughout your body beneath her intense gaze.

"Yes," she replies hoarsely, not moving her eyes and your body starts to throb with desire with her suggestive response.

You look at her arm resting on the table and notice the curve of her bicep beneath the cuff of your shirt sleeve. Seeing her in your clothes makes your heart beat even faster and you boldly reach for her hand, rubbing the pad of your thumb across its surface in tight circles.

"What are you doing?," she whispers, her eyes traveling from your hand and back up your face to zero in on your own.

"Holding your hand," you reply coolly, trying to regain some form of composure. You shift your body so your kneecap brushes against her own beneath the table.

Her breath hitches and she suddenly stands up, pulling you with her.

She walks you backwards until your body hits the wall and looks down on you, pressing her hips against yours and sliding her other hand behind your waist.

"Do you mind if I kiss you?," she asks, her voice all throaty and low, and immediately after you nod, her lips press gently but greedily against yours and you feel like all breath has been sucked out of your body.

You kiss her back, desperate to dispose of the want crawling through your veins, eager to show her how much you want her.

Her left hand raises yours above your head, fingers still interlocked, as her right hand moves from your waist and dips between your thighs. When she cups you and you gasp, her body immediately stills and her eyes fly open.

"I'm sorry...did I do something you didn't want?," she asks shakily and you realize she's just as nervous as you are, despite her precise and calculating movements.

"No. I mean, yes. I want that. I just wasn't expecting it."

A laugh spills over your lips, cutting the electricity buzzing in the air around your heads and she pulls back, rocking a little on her heels.

Ever-so-cocky, she slides both her hands into the pockets of your pants and leans forward so her head is next to yours.

"Sooo, Eve, what do you want?," she whispers and the way her lilting, thick accent tumbles into your ear is all you need to feel emboldened.

You grab the material of her shirt, just below her throat and push her towards the bedroom where she squeaks when the back of her knees touches the mattress and she falls backwards.

"You," you say, straddling her and sliding your t-shirt off of her head.

She moans into the kiss you give her and you let her hands remove your own shirt and bra.

"Can you take off your pants?," she whines, pupils blown.

You nod and roll off of her to kick off your pants. Before straddling her again, you ask her if you can remove hers and she nods, head falling back against the pillow, face flushed.

When you finally regain your position and look down on her, a smile saunters across your face at how happy she looks (and this is even before anything has actually happened).

"What are you smiling for?," she asks, her eyes focused on your quickly-hardening nipples as her thumbs rub the underside of your breasts.

"Your face," you reply, leaning forward and kissing her neck, delighting in the sound she makes from the contact and the way she aggressively squeezes your breasts in response.

A few seconds later, after an exchange of some more kisses and heavy petting, she murmurs against your neck, "And what about my face?"

Your hips buck forward as hers buck upwards and you gasp into her mouth when you move your lips to find her own.

You should feel bad about the way you bite down on her lip as you moan into her mouth but you don't. 

She kisses you like she has never tasted anything before.

You kiss her back, just as drunk off desire and just as determined.

You continue to grind against her, feeling her wetness coating your thigh already, and you look down.

"Can I...?," you ask her, moving your hand between her thighs as she nods.

You slide your thumb and index fingers over her clit and start to massage it gently but firmly as you continue to grind down on her.

"Don't stop," she groans into your ear, her hands caressing the dips on your lower back as she assists your hips in their movements.

So you keep thrusting your hips and letting her lips suck on your erect nipples. You figure out how to pleasure her based on the grunts she makes and the way her eyes roll back when your fingers start to pick up speed over and around her clit.

"More?," you breathe into her ear, leaning against her for support as your hand starts to tire.

She nods, unable to speak.

You don't warn her when you pull away from her body, eliciting a surprised squeal. Instead, you just shimmy down the length of her body, leaving open-mouthed kisses down her torso and latch onto her clit with your tongue.

Not having done this before, you decide to suck on the bundle of nerves at first, alternating between sucking and tracing around it with your tongue. You think she's going to rip your hair out when her fingers find your curls and she pulls your head up.

"Should I stop?," you gasp, blood rushing through your body.

"No," she replies, head hitting the pillow.

You resume your position and continue to suck and massage with your tongue and now she's arching her back off the bed, begging you to continue.

When you bare your teeth over her clit before pulling back and sucking one last time, she comes with a shout. You move your tongue from her clit and dip it lower, lapping up her pleasure and making her entire body shudder in response. When you look up very briefly, you notice that her hands are clenching the bedsheet and her eyes are squinted shut.

"Watch me," you demand and her eyes snap open, catching yours.

Just like you expected, she experiences another orgasm as she observes you using your tongue inside of her. Her thighs clench around your head and you continue to lick your way through her, slowly and gently, coaxing her through the after-effects of the multiple orgasms.

"What the fuck was that???," she asks you after you kiss the inside of her thighs like her body is a temple and you're a devout worshipper.

"That," you respond, crawling back up her body and flopping down on the mattress besides her, "was our first time."

"First of many?," she asks back, a devilish grin crossing her face as her hands find your breasts again.

Your eyes note her heaving chest, sweat-slicked skin, messy hair, and tired but happy eyes. You place your arm around her waist and squeeze her ribs, moving your body close to hers.

"You don't want me to thank you?," she mumbles, kissing the top of your head and winding her own arm around your back.

"Not right now," you tell her, feeling her stomach muscles flex beneath your grip.

"Was it good?," you ask.

"Ha! Ha ha!," she replies, causing you to look up at her with raised eyebrows.

"Are you seriously asking me that?," she asks you, bending forward to kiss the space between your eyebrows.

"Uh..yes?"

"It was very good. I think I'm still coming."

Both of you look down then, between her legs and a flush spreads over your skin like twilight.

"Are you shy?," she asks you, playfully tickling your ribs and making you laugh against her chest.

"Yes," you admit.

"It's okay, I am, too."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. I haven't been seduced by anyone as beautiful as you before."

You look up at her again and realize her jest is emphasized by a tone of seriousness.

"You haven't? You don't say that to all of your conquests?"

"You're not like everyone else," she says quietly, squeezing your side as if to emphasize her point.

"Oh, you mean this isn't a one-night stand?," you try to joke.

"No, of course not."

The energy shifts between you again and you close your eyes when she starts to rub circles across your back with a flattened palm.

"Eve..."

"Villanelle..."

"Go ahead."

"No, tell me what you were going to say, first."

"I need to leave in the morning. Alone."

"Villanelle, I can't let you do that."

"You have to."

"Why? Who says? Who is telling you this?"

"Please...don't make this harder. I will come back after."

"When? Will I be waiting six months, one year, five years??"

Your body is shaking now but from anger, nothing else, and you pull away from her to sit up in the bed.

You can feel her watching you as you run your fingers throw your unruly curls and pull your knees to your chest, locking your arms around them.

She sits up as well and you can't help yourself when your eyes travel down her legs and you note the tell-tale sheen of pleasure there. You did that. And now she's going. The responsive swell of your heart makes your chest ache.

"I love you," she says softly and if she wasn't sitting right next to you, you would have thought you imagined it.

Your heart collapses at her admission and you know that this time, unlike Rome, she feels it to be true. 

You turn your head and see her eyes pool with tears.

"Come here," you say, pulling her towards you. "Can you lie down with me?," you ask, pulling her chin up and kissing her softly. 

Both of you lie down next to each other again. This time, she rests her head on your chest and you run your fingers through her hair.

"I love you," you say back and your confession unleashes a deluge of tears from her eyes.

Her body shakes above yours and you try to quell the fear rising up in your throat.

"You'll take care of yourself, right?," you ask, the pain behind your breast making your voice crack.

She nods and grabs your ribcage like it is a lifejacket.

"Don't get angry when I say this," she mumbles and shifts her body so her eyes lock with yours. "I don't want you to wait around. I know we're not...anything. You should date. I don't want you to be alone."

"Are you kidding me?," you ask, your forehead creasing and now your heart is an animal caught in a trap, begging to be let go.

You release her and get off the bed, grabbing your shirt and throwing it over your head. When you turn around to face her, she's sitting up again.

"You want me to date? Really?," you ask, your voice rising despite your desire to remain calm.

"I don't want you to be alone."

"I have friends, you know. I'm not some horndog looking for a quick fuck. We just told each other we loved each other. That's pretty big, right?? And now you're telling me to go out there and date?"

"I don't know when I will come back. What do you want me to do??"

"I want you to not tell me to go out and date? I want you to ask me to be yours???"

You're unable to read her face so you turn away from her to sit at the base of the bed, your body trembling from frustration, anger, and confusion.

You feel her approach you and she slides her legs around your back so that her feet are touching the floor. She locks her arms around your navel and presses her lips to your neck, inhaling the scent of your sweaty skin.

"I'm sorry," she says, fingers tightening around your torso, beneath your shirt. "I want you to be mine. I don't want you to date. I don't want you to have one-night stands. I want all of you. I want you to wait for me."

"Are you sure? What if you want that? Maybe you'll feel alone, wherever it is you end up going? Or lonely?"

"No. I don't want that."

"You don't need to lie to me. I know your sexual appetite is..."

"I can turn it off. I just need to focus on a few things and then I'm done. And I will find you. But that means I'm leaving tomorrow, early. So let me say thank you. Please."

You nod and she pulls you back onto the bed, easily dragging your body up with hers.

You wake up five hours later, after falling asleep following the best sex you've ever had. You know she's gone. This time, the note is placed within reach.

On one side:

"When you're lost and you're alone and you can't get back again  
I will find you  
Darling and I will bring you home  
And if you want to cry  
I am here to dry your eyes  
And in no time, you'll be fine  
You think I'd leave your side, baby  
You know me better than that."

On the other side:

Eve, I hope you do not mind me taking the clothes you let me wear and your duffel bag. I left its contents on the kitchen table. xx, Yours.

You get up and walk into the kitchen, noting your items on the table exactly where Villanelle said she left them. On top of everything, the plastic heart.

"Mine," you whisper, taking the heart with you back into the bedroom, and falling asleep with it above your chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks @Karlie for the song suggestion! xx
> 
> Lyrics in Villanelle's goodbye note are taken directly from the song.
> 
> Thank you to all who have read, commented, and left kudos on this piece thus far.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Villanelle and Eve reunite a few months after their last farewell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) TRIGGER WARNING: signs of violence on Villanelle from her former toxic employer; this may be explored in the next chapter  
> (2) Chapter written in Villanelle's POV   
> (3) **** Happy Birthday to user @angelheart56 I hope you enjoy this day with lots of good music (Rihanna ft. Wale), good food, and even better company ****   
> (4) Lyrics at the beginning ("But how I'd love to go to Paris again") are from The 1975 track "Paris"   
> (5) Lyrics that Villanelle mentions at the very end ("Well I know when you're around 'cause I know the sound, I know the sound, of your heart") is from The 1975 track "The Sound"   
> FINALLY - I'm in the legal profession and entered it so I could advocate against any and all forms of injustice. One story that has caught my eye recently is the Breonna Taylor story. If you haven't heard about what happened, do some research. Her life mattered. Her legacy burns bright. A grand jury decision will be announced tomorrow. If you want to lend support to the BLM chapter in Louisville, Kentucky, here is a link to a Bail Fund: https://afgj.salsalabs.org/louisvillebailfund/index.html

Five and a half months later...

Last week, you sent Eve a postcard with the following lyrics scrawled on it, "But how I'd love to go to Paris again," making sure you underlined the last word, knowing she would understand where to find you.

When you hear a knock on the door, you know it's her without needing her to announce herself.

You run over to the door and she almost bowls you over with her embrace. You kick the door closed and return her kiss, lifting her up so that her legs are wrapped around your waist. You carry her to the bed even though you're in pain. You hope she doesn't notice. But her eyes are faster than your movements and she does.

She's on her back and her smile slides off her face when she can see your face in its entirety.

"Who gave you that black eye? And this cut, above your cheek?," she asks, reaching for your face to run her thumb over the scar. "These marks, around your neck?"

"Wait," she adds, her eyes drifting down the rest of your body. "Take your clothes off," she directs.

You don't reply but does as she asks. When she sees the rest of your body, she sits up, a shocked expression on her face.

"I showed you yours, now you show me mine?," you try to joke but she doesn't laugh. 

"Who did this?," she asks, her small fingers lightly running down your torso, over your ribs, and above the dips of your hipbones.

"It doesn't matter now. I'm done," you tell her, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

She slides her arm around your back and rests her cheek against your shoulder.

"Are you going to take your clothes off, too?," you ask, wanting desperately to see and touch her body and find out what, if anything, has changed.

She stands up and removes her jacket, sweatshirt, and jeans, placing the clothes over the back of your chair in front of the vanity mirror. You suck in a deep breath at the sight of her standing in front of you in nothing but her underwear and her bra.

"Do you want to help me remove these?," she asks shyly and the question settles at the base of your stomach, landing between your thighs.

"Yes, of course," you reply, standing up and unclasping her bra before sliding your thumbs beneath the waistband of her panties and pulling them down. You watch your reflection the entire time, unable to believe that she's finally standing here in front of you. And now she's naked and it takes all of your self-control to not turn her around and press your body into her. Instead, you let her grab your hand, pull back the covers, and lie you down. She lies down on her side and places her palm over your bellybutton, her eyes wandering across your breasts and noting the discolored bruise above your right nipple.

"This was Hélène, too, wasn't it?"

You nod, sliding your fingers between hers and bringing her hand to your lips.

"Is she still alive?"

You nod again, feeling her clench her fingers in response.

"I want to kill her," she says between gritted teeth, her eyes dark and gleaming.

"She's not worth it," you say softly, bringing your other hand up to her cheek and cupping it.

"I've missed you," she admits, her voice softening, before leaning forward to kiss you on the lips.

Your tongue slips between her teeth and you lick the top of her mouth before pursing your lips together and pressing them against hers.

"I've missed you," you reply, closing your eyes as she moves her face so that it is hovering above yours. She kisses you again and again and you whimper into her mouth, wanting to roll her onto her back and show her how much you have missed her, but you can't. 

"I'm sorry," you grunt, grimacing when her left elbow accidentally hits your bruised ribcage. "Maybe I should have waited to send you the postcard. You know, so we could have just jumped right in."

"No way. I can take care of you now. We can do other things, you know. Until you've recovered." 

She pulls back and smirks, her fingertips running over your collarbone before moving down your body to rest above your hipbone.

"Oh yeah, like what?," you whisper, smiling at her.

"Watch movies," she replies, kissing you once.

"Cook food," she adds, kissing you another time.

"Resume our ballroom dance that was interrupted," she suggests, kissing you yet again.

"Anything else?"

"Go to concerts since you love music so much."

"Sounds nice. Doesn't that deserve another kiss?"

"Someone's getting greedy," she giggles but gives you another kiss anyway.

"Is it okay if I move closer?," she asks.

"Uh hm," you reply, moving your left hand down the staircase of her spine as her hair tickles your chin.

"I want to stay here for awhile and then I'm going to get up and make you some food. I'm scared to fall asleep, though."

"Why?"

"I feel like this is a dream."

You pinch her ass very softly and she yelps.

"Not a dream, see?," you tease and she fixes you with a pointed look, eyes narrowed but lips still upturned.

"You're bad," she says, jabbing her index finger towards you.

"Very, very bad. I deserve to be punished," you pout, bending forward and catching her lips between your own, nibbling her bottom one gently before pulling away.

She scoffs but grins into your chest and sighs contentedly. 

"I'm sorry for not being able to contact you these last few months. I didn't want to put you in any danger," you tell her quietly, feeling her body tense at your admission.

"I was mad at you," she confesses. "I almost couldn't believe it, when your postcard showed up. I thought it was a cruel joke. Especially since you weren't connected to your old number and I couldn't call you to confirm."

"I sent you other postcards, though."

"Yes, but with no return address? I didn't know how to reach you?"

You brush your lips against her forehead. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"I know, but I was still mad at the situation."

"Did you...?"

"Did I sleep with anybody? No. Did you??"

"No," you reply, looking directly into her eyes. "I'm sorry for asking. I sound like a possessive asshole."

"I don't mind that you asked me. I kind of like it."

"You do??"

"Yes. Is that bad?"

"No."

"Where have you been, all this time?," she whispers.

"Spain. Portugal. Italy. Here."

"Did you ever come back to England?"

"No. I would have tried to see you, if I had."

"Are you sure you're done with that toxic woman forever?"

"Yes."

"She won't try to pop up at any point in the future?"

"No."

"I dreamt about you, you know."

"Did you need to take a cold shower when you woke up?," you joke, gripping the curve of her hip with your left hand.

"Oh, hush," she retorts, swiping your right shoulder with her left hand.

"What did you dream about?"

"That you needed me but I couldn't find you, anywhere."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't need to say sorry, that's just what I dreamt about. I'm just glad you're okay. Well, not okay okay, but okay," she mumbles, dropping kisses across the base of your throat and down to your bellybutton.

She pauses, hesitating to move down your body, her fingers tracing the scar she gave to you as well as the other scars on your skin, ones she hasn't seen yet.

"Don't worry, everything still works," you say with a grave expression, wondering if she's wondering about your sex drive and if anything has changed (it hasn't).

"God. You and your libido," she laughs, giving you a kiss to reward your witty sense of humor you know she appreciates.

"You like that I can make you laugh," you tell her after breaking the kiss.

"I do," she replies. "You know what else I like?"

"What's that?"

"That everything still works."

Her mouth finds yours again and she cleans the shocked expression off of your face with another kiss.

"You've gotten funnier since I've been away," you tease, pulling her body up so her head is next to yours.

"Rude!"

"Come up here so I can kiss you and then you won't have to worry about me and my dirty mouth," you grin.

Her mouth kisses yours and you can already feel your lips swelling from the force she is using. When she tries to pull away, you close your lips around her necklace, a silver one with a heart pendant engraved with the word "Yours" on the inside, a small token you sent to her from Italy.

"What are you doing?," she asks, laughing.

Your lips let go of the pendant and you gently pull her head towards yours: "I'm holding onto what's mine."

"And what's that?"

"Your heart."

"Still the romantic, huh?"

"For you? Always," you reply, smiling into her skin as she kisses your neck.

She giggles at your joke and you laugh, too, as you think of the following line with your heart throbbing in your chest, between your thighs, beneath her mouth: "Well I know when you're around 'cause I know the sound, I know the sound, of your heart."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter bought to you by The 1975 "Me & You Together" track.
> 
> Relevant lyrics:
> 
> "There's been no way for me to say  
> That I've felt a certain way for ages  
> Oh I think our story needs more pages  
> 'Cause I've been in love with her for ages  
> And ages, and ages  
> Been in love with her for ages  
> And ages, and ages"


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eve helps Villanelle in more than one way.
> 
> There's a home-cooked meal (with a Lady & the Tramp noodle kiss).
> 
> There's conversation.
> 
> There's big spooning.
> 
> There's a necklace exchange.
> 
> Finally, a nod to a future together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) ***Trigger Warning: Villanelle grabs Eve somewhat aggressively (during a nightmare), Villanelle mentions a violent attack she endured as well as the possibility of being drugged***
> 
> (2) Chapter written in Eve's POV.
> 
> (3) I was listening to "Somebody Else" by The 1975 while I was writing this. 
> 
> Video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3zYI4gKQKtA
> 
> As covered beautifully by Chvrches: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wEdRhmBx8IU

You make her spaghetti for dinner with meatless bolognese and salad. She fell asleep while you took a shower so you're letting her rest while you rummage around in her kitchen trying to find plates and silverware and trying not to think about the marks on her body and who made them.

"I swear to god, if I ever meet you on the street, I am going to rip you apart, limb by limb," you mumble beneath your breath, addressing the comment to Hélène.

You set two plates down alongside forks and knives and walk over to the bed to wake up Villanelle. You're wearing her t-shirt that hangs below your hipbones and a pair of her shorts, an outfit you retrieved from her dresser drawer after you showered; when she opens her eyes in response to your kiss, they widen at the sight of you.

A smile quickly breaks upon her face and she pulls you closer to the side of the bed, sliding her hands beneath the shirt to run her palms up your back until they rest against your shoulder blades.

"You can't pull me on top of you, you're in pain," you assert, as if you're breaking news to her she does not yet know about.

"I've experienced much more pain than this," she replies, ignoring your squeak of concern and pulling you onto her so that you're straddling her waist.

"Baby," you tell her, noticing a familiar look in her eyes, "I know how much you want to do this right now, but I really do want you to recover. So we can do this for hours with no breaks."

She growls, pulling your lips between hers and then resting her forehead against yours.

"Fine," she pants, "but it's criminal of you to walk around looking like that and expect me not to do anything about it."

You get off of her and the bed, a smile still on your face. Holding out your hand, "Come on, hotshot. I know you're always ready for dessert but dinner's getting cold."

She steps out of bed, naked, and preens beneath your appreciative gaze, slowly walking over to her cupboard to remove the silk tiger-printed robe she knows you love.

Your eyes move across her back and you notice other bruises you weren't able to see before.

"What?," she asks, hearing your gasp.

"Um, nothing," you quickly say, not wanting her to feel self-conscious. 

You shake your head and smile and she tightens the sash on the robe before walking up to you and kissing you on the forehead. 

"Thanks for making food," she tells you. "I'm starving."

"Don't I know it?," you tease, your hands sliding beneath her robe to squeeze the top of her ass.

She yelps and looks down at you before exhaling a highly exaggerated "EVE!"

"Yes?," you ask coyly, pulling her behind you.

You fill her plate with spaghetti and salad and follow her over to the table.

"Do you remember the last time we did this?," you ask her and she nods, shoveling down forkfuls of food at a pace that would otherwise be alarming if someone else was in front of you.

"That was before the first time we had sex," she announces, enjoying the flush that appears on your cheeks.

"And if I remember correctly," she adds, swallowing down a mouthful of salad, "you initiated it. Such a go-getter, Eve."

You laugh and drop your hand to the table, fingers finding her resting arm.

"Oh, please. I asked you if you needed anything else and you said yes. Obviously, you were the one who initiated it."

"Are we fighting?," she asks, smirking now and brushing her knees against your own, causing sparks of electricity to run through your body.

"No."

"Okay, after this, let's throw our plates on the floor and pretend to argue over something. I've heard make-up sex is very, very good."

You roll your eyes at her, almost choking on your food as she continues to look at you the way she was eyeing her dinner plate a few seconds ago.

"You're thinking about how hot it would be, no?," she asks, pushing her empty plate away.

You lift your fork to her mouth and she eats the spaghetti on it eagerly, sauce dripping onto her chin from a stray noodle.

You lean forward and lick the sauce off before slipping your tongue between her lips and making her moan softly.

"That's so not fair," she whispers, eyes still closed.

"What isn't?"

"You Lady and the Tramp'ed me but you don't want us to have sex for another few days."

"I didn't say that. I said I want you to recover. I can do some things without you having to move."

"I'm liking the sound of this," she beams, letting you sit on top of her lap, your feet touching the ground. 

You wind your arms around her neck and clasp your fingers together, brushing your lips against her own.

"I love seeing that necklace around your neck," she confesses, eyes focusing on the pendant between your breasts.

"I love wearing it."

She asks you why and even though you know she already knows what your answer is, you entertain her inquiry.

"Because it reminds me that you're mine."

"Ah," she replies, content with your response. Her hazel eyes glint beneath the overhead light and her hands rest comfortably around the base of your lower back. When she lifts her chin up to kiss you, the look in her eyes is one of complete devotion. 

"Did you like the spaghetti?"

"Yes. I might have another plate, later."

"I've been taking some cooking classes."

"You have?!," she squeals, almost letting your back hit the table when she unclasps her hands.

"I wanted to have something to do when I wasn't working or seeing Elena so I decided to take a cooking course."

"I liked the way you made food before the course, too."

"Sounds like someone is trying to get into my pants," you say breathily, kissing her.

"If I'm not mistaken, someone is already in my pants."

She looks down at the shorts of hers that you're wearing and you laugh.

"Very cute. Are you ready to watch a movie now or are you tired?"

"Let's watch a movie," she says. 

After you stand up, she clears the table and dumps everything in the sink, waving at you to step away. 

"This will take me ten minutes. Do you want to find a movie?"

You walk over to the couch and plop down, tired all of a sudden from the traveling and cooking. Also tired from worrying about her. You lie down and watch her move over the sink, her movements slow and choppy instead of rapid and smooth.

You want to ask her if she's okay because you know she isn't. For now, you'll wait for her to confide in you before you try to coax anything out of her.

Half an hour later...

"Do you want to go to bed?"

You open your eyes and see her standing next to the couch wearing a "Kiss The Chef" apron and a small smile on her lips. 

"I'm sorry...what about the movie?"

"We can watch one tomorrow. Come on, sleepy," she says, pulling you up towards her and catching you in her arms.

"I'm going to brush my teeth and wash my face," you say and she nods, smacking your ass playfully after you turn from her to walk into the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later, she gets into bed next to you. It's autumn in Paris and it's cold outside but the inside of her place is comfortably warm so she convinces you (it wasn't too hard) to sleep naked.

"I just want to feel you," she says, and you slot your body next to hers so that you're practically on top of her (not quite).

"Have I changed?," you ask her as her fingers trace your limbs and muscles.

"You're beautiful," she replies before adding that she's changed and glancing quickly over her body.

"You're beautiful," you say simply and you mean it.

"But I look different now."

"Hmm. Just a few bruises and scars."

"You're still attracted to me?," she whispers, her voice coated with trepidation.

"Of course I am."

"Even though I look like Frankenstein's monster?"

"You don't look like him but even if you did...? I have a thing for monsters. Beautiful ones."

She grins at you, remembering the conversation you had on the bridge.

"You are very kinky, Eve."

"You haven't even scratched the surface," you tell her, enjoying her raised eyebrows and "Oh?" expression.

You're about to make another joke when you realize she's fallen asleep.

"Goodnight, V," you whisper, sliding your arm around her waist and resting your head in the crook of her neck.

Three hours later...

She wakes up screaming, gripping your shoulders tightly and yelling at you to get off of her.

"STOP. IT'S ME," you yell, alarmed at how wide and glossy her eyes are, as if she's still in a dreamlike state.

She stops moving and sputters out your name before a strangled sob tumbles from her lips and she starts to apologize to you profusely.

"I didn't mean to hurt you. Did I hurt you? I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

You quickly sit up and turn the light on with a flick of the switch behind your head. 

She's sweating and tears are rushing down her cheeks.

"It's okay, look at me. It's me. I'm going to get you some water, okay?"

She touches your arm and you realize she wants you to stay where you are. So you do, even though your heart is pounding and adrenaline is rushing through your body at the jarring physical contact that woke you up from your sleep.

"You had a bad dream?," you ask her, sitting next to her so you're shoulder-to-shoulder, not wanting to force any physical contact unless she reaches for you.

She nods, mouth slightly open, a look of shock contorting her beautiful face.

You wipe away the tears on her cheeks with your knuckles and she inhales sharply.

"Can you turn off the light? I don't want you to see me like this," she asks quietly.

You flip the light switch down.

Then, "Can you hold me, from behind?," and you nod, thankful she cannot see your own tears as you lie down on your side and hold her against you.

She bows her head and curls her spine against your chest, making you think of a cat arching its back against an outstretched hand.

She shudders against you and you know she's crying even harder.

You gulp and close your eyes, cursing the people who did this to her.

"Eve?," she asks, her voice breaking your heart.

"Yes?"

"I want to tell you what happened."

"Okay."

"Hélène, the night before she let me go, she had the woman who replaced Rhian attack me in the cell they were holding me in. I woke up and she was standing next to the cot. I must have been drugged because I couldn't respond quickly enough to her advances. She got on top of me and was choking me. I tried to fight back but it didn't work. I passed out. When I woke up, it was the next morning and I was dropped off in the middle of nowhere. That was eight days ago. I thought I'd be fine now, I thought I'd be over it. I wanted to be okay by the time you got here."

"I'm so sorry, baby," you exhale, quickly brushing the tears off of your face before leaning forward so your right cheek is touching her left. "You don't need to 'get over' anything. You've gone through so much these past few months so of course you're traumatized. I'm going to help you get through this. Maybe we can talk to a therapist?"

"You should hate me. Or be running in the opposite direction. I almost threw you off the bed," she says, another sob rolling off of her tongue.

"I don't hate you and I'm not going anywhere. I'm okay," you try to reassure her.

"What if I hurt you?"

"You didn't."

"But what if I do something like that in the future?"

"Then I'll just have to wear a helmet to bed then."

She doesn't laugh at your joke but you notice that her breathing has slowed down.

"Can you lie on your back?," you ask her softly, wanting to see her face.

She shifts her body and her swollen eyes catch your own.

"I'm sorry for touching you like that," she says again, her bottom lip quivering as her eyes close.

"Open your eyes, please. Look at me. I know you would never touch me to hurt me. I know you. You just ran around for months doing things that were probably really scary and horrible and life-threatening, for me. For us. You love me and I love you, right? We're going to get through this. And I'm not going anywhere."

"You don't want to leave me? After that?"

"God no!," you exclaim. "No. I'm not leaving. You can't get rid of me that quickly."

She smiles, her eyes shining with mirth at your last statement.

"Do you mind if I kiss you?," you ask her, fingers splayed out above her navel.

She shakes her head, no.

You bend forward and press your lips to hers, ever so slowly and softly, hoping she can feel your forgiveness.

When you pull away, you sit up and unclasp your necklace before leaning over her and securing it around her neck.

"Wear this, for now. Until you take me to Italy and I find one for you, okay?"

"You don't want to wear it??," she asks, sounding a little worried.

"I don't need to wear it right now. You're the only thing that's going on in my mind..."

"You're sexy when you quote song lyrics to me," she grins, motioning for you to lie back down on her chest again.

"Only then?"

"Yep."

"Oh!! So the truth has come out. Does this mean I need to only speak in song lyrics to you now?"

"Yep."

"Okay, fine, how about this one then?"

She glances at you as you lift your head from her chest and speak into her ear, dropping your voice: "I want to kiss your neck."

Squealing, she laughs against your mouth, nodding excitedly. "Someone has been listening to my The 1975 playlist...," she murmurs, kissing your neck.

"Yep," you reply, popping the p like she does. "I was just trying to be sexy for you. Did it work?"

"Yes. Thank you," she replies before quoting The 1975 back to you: "You're the one that makes me feel right."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quoted lyrics from The 1975 are from the following songs -
> 
> And you're the only thing that's going on in my mind...  
> "Ugh!"
> 
> I want to kiss your neck  
> "Fallingforyou"
> 
> You're the one that makes me feel right.  
> "Me & You Together"
> 
> Thanks for the kudos, comments, and for reading. I appreciate it. Find me on Twitter (@compassionchasr) if you want to chat about music, books, cats, cities you want to travel to once it is safe to do so, etc. Again, big thanks to user @KarlieWhatYouWant for the musical inspiration behind this piece. I tried to incorporate as many The 1975 song lyrics as possible and hope I did the band justice.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eve and Villanelle celebrate their one year anniversary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time jump!
> 
> Chapter in Villanelle's POV
> 
> Eve and Villanelle are now living in a house they purchased somewhere in London.

Ding.

Eve: This bed is too big for one person. 

You reply, "Should I pick you up a single one on the way home from work then?"

Ding.

Eve: Very funny. You can sleep on the couch tonight.

You stifle a laugh, "Do you really want to banish me there on our anniversary night? Guess you will be having sex by yourself then..."

Ding.

Eve: It's our anniversary?!

You frown slightly, even though you know she is joking. "Pout."

Ding.

Eve: Stop being cute or I'll have to come over there and kick Carolyn out of the building so we can have sex on your very wide and very sturdy desk.

Your heart starts to beat faster and you glance at the desk, the memory of bending Eve over its edge flooding your mind. You gave her head on top of its surface eight months ago after moving into the space per Carolyn's offer that you work for her as a consultant. When Eve visited you, once everybody else had left, you pulled her into your office and locked the door, kissing her eagerly from her lips to her neck and down her throat. She was hesitant at first, worried that Carolyn would walk in on you, but you assured her she had left for the day. And once you pushed everything off the desk (as dramatically and as sexy as you possibly could) and asked her to lie down, Carolyn was the farthest thing from her mind.

Ding.

Eve: You're thinking about it, aren't you? Get your work done early then, hotshot.

You exhale and try to ignore the painful throbbing between your legs reminding you that you haven't had sex with Eve in a week.

You send one more text before sliding your phone into your pocket, "OK. See you then. xx."

Ding.

You can't help but pull your phone out as you see Carolyn approaching your closed door.

"Fuck me," you say softly before opening the image Eve attached to her last text.

She's lying on her back on the bed with only your t-shirt on, wearing a coy smile and a wink. Her right arm is extended down her body and her hand is placed strategically between her thighs. You quickly send her another text quoting The 1975: "My shirt looks so good when it's just hanging off your back."

You close your eyes and pocket your phone, clearing your throat as Carolyn walks in. She sits down across from you, on the other side of the desk, and you try to think of anything else besides the arousal making your body ache.

This is going to be a long day, you think, as she looks at you and raises her eyebrows ever so slightly before, "Well?"

Four hours later...

After picking up flowers and a personalized vegan cake in the shape of a bus with a "Happy Anniversary" message scrawled on its side, you jump into the car and race home, your entire body thrumming with excitement and desperation.

When you walk inside, the house is eerily quiet. You remove your shoes by the door and place the cake in the fridge next to a can of vegan whipped cream.

"Eve?," you call out, looking into the empty living room.

"Upstairs!"

You grab the flowers and walk upstairs, feeling nervous.

The bedroom door is closed so you stand outside of it and knock three times, calling out Eve's name.

"Come in!"

You gulp and push the door open, eyes searching for the tell-tale head of curly hair, inquisitive eyes, and familiar smile.

"Are those for me??"

You grin as Eve hugs you from behind, one hand reaching for the flowers. When you turn, you see her wearing nothing but a towel. Her hair is wet and her skin smells like your body wash.

"You smell amazing," you murmur, pulling her in front of you and setting the flowers down on top of the dresser so you can kiss her with your entire body.

"Hmmmm," you exhale, nosing her neck and kissing her softly there.

"Happy Anniversary, baby," she says, unbuckling your pants.

"Wait--"

"What?"

"Are we having sex right now?," you ask, eyebrows raised.

"Yes??"

"Shit. I mean, no, I want to. I just feel dirty after sitting in that office all day. Can I shower first? For you?"

Eve smiles and she pulls your mouth towards hers before letting go.

"You don't want me to join you?"

"No. I want to lie you down."

"Okay. Go and shower then, stinky. I'll just be lying on our bed, naked."

You groan and roll your eyes but a smile doesn't leave your lips as you bend down to kiss her.

"I don't need to shower."

She laughs and swats you away. 

"No, go. Now I want you to."

"Fine. But can you at least finish helping me get out of my clothes?"

Her face flushes and you smirk because you love the effect you (still) have on her. 

She undoes the button on your pants and pulls the zip down.

"Good?"

You shake your head.

She pretends to be annoyed but her lips twitch upwards as she slides her thumb beneath the band of your pants on both sides and pulls them down your legs.

You step out of your pants and look down at her head between your legs and exhale from the sight. Although a familiar one, you don't think you will ever get used to it.

She starts to move her body back up yours but stops at your hips. She looks up and questions you with her eyes and you just nod.

You gasp when she takes the waistband of your underwear between her teeth and pulls it all the way down until her nose is practically touching the floor.

Your hands quickly find her shoulders and you pull her up, eagerly bringing her head towards your own so you can kiss her.

"What was that for?," she asks, laughing, as you palm her breasts beneath her towel.

"For helping me," you reply, chest heaving.

You ask her if you can help her out of her towel and she nods. So you do. Then, you turn her around and guide her to the bottom of your bed.

"Can I do something?," you ask and she nods again.

You kiss her and she chases you with her tongue when you pull back.

You push her into the mattress and straddle her and her hands reach for your shirt so she can undo the buttons and remove it.

"No, I want to shower before you touch me, okay?"

She nods.

You lower your lips onto her right nipple and you suck.

Her hips jerk involuntarily and her back arches a little off the bed.

She places her hands behind your head and pulls you against her even more.

So you suck again and again and then you trace the areola with your tongue before moving to her left breast.

Her body twitches beneath your touch and you know she has been aching, too, for this physical contact.

You slide your thumbs beneath the underside of her breasts and trace their lengths, firmly but smoothly.

She moans into your mouth when you massage her breasts, removing your lips so you can leave open-mouthed kisses up her torso.

You move your head lower and dip your tongue between her legs, throwing your arms around them to hold her body steady.

You alternate between your tongue and your fingers and her hips rise from the mattress as her thighs tremble and clench around your head.

"Don't stop," she whines when you pull your head up to catch your breath. So you resume your position and start to lick and suck your way through the slickness against her skin with determination.

Seconds later, right after her body stills, she is shaking above and beneath you. You remove your head from between her legs and crawl up the bed, your chest heaving against her mouth as her lips bite down on your erect nipples before moving to your lips and catching them between her teeth.

You gasp from her aggressive contact but close your eyes, collapsing into her touch. Her fingers reach for your shirt again but you pull away, groaning.

"I'm going to shower. I stink. I want to shower, for you. I won't be long."

She whines but nods, her eyes half-closed, as she sighs into the pillow, content. 

You kiss her deeply and get off the bed, discarding both your shirt and bra on the floor. You can feel her watching you as you walk into the bathroom and your skin feels like it is on fire from the look of lust and longing on her face.

"I'll be right back," you promise. "Aren't you glad our bed is so big?," you add and you close the door to avoid getting hit by the pillow she flings in your direction.

To Be Continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Fuck-day! I mean, Friday. Practice safe sex. 
> 
> Relevant lyrics from The 1975 "Sex"
> 
> "My shirt looks so good  
> When it's just hanging off your back  
> And she said use your hands and my spare time  
> We've got one thing in common it's this tongue of mine"


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eve and Villanelle continue their anniversary celebrations.
> 
> There's a full length mirror.
> 
> There's wrist restraints.
> 
> There's Villanelle watching Eve touching herself while watching Villanelle touching herself in a video.
> 
> There's mention of a bus-shaped cake (the bathroom shaped ones were all taken;P).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Find me on twitter @compassionchasr where you can send me one shot ideas and/or ask me questions on Curious Cat.
> 
> (2) Non-dairy whipped cream is divine.
> 
> (3) Sharing music is a love language.
> 
> (4) Thanks for enjoying this piece so much and for being patient with the update. I hope you enjoy the weekend.

When you re-enter the bedroom twenty minutes later, sans towel, Eve is sitting on the floor at the bottom of the bed next to the can of whipped cream and looking through her phone. In front of her is the full-length mirror from the guest bedroom.

"What's this about?," you ask, your skin tingling with excitement, and she motions for you to sit down behind her so that her back is touching the front of your body.

Then she asks, "Do you mind if I use our ankle restraints for your wrists?"

Your breath hitches and your eyes widen.

This must be part of her anniversary surprise for you.

"No," you tell her and watch her reflection in the mirror as she gently takes your wrists and places them on the mattress above your head, securing them in the under-the-bed restraints.

"I'm going to sit in front of you and I'm going to touch myself and you're going to watch me, okay?," she whispers into your ear.

You close your eyes at the throbbing sensation between your legs and nod weakly.

"I want you to keep your eyes open the entire time. Can you do that for me?," she asks, kissing you deeply. 

You nod. She sits back and down presses her backside against you so there is no space between your bodies.

You're already wet and she hasn't even started to touch herself yet.

"What are you waiting for?," you whisper quietly, feeling like you're going to explode if you don't come soon.

"This," she replies, sending you a grin in the mirror. 

She positions her phone at the mirror's base, hitting the play button on a familiar looking video.

You recognize the video as one you sent to her during the last trip you took for work. 

She starts to touch herself, mimicking the movements you're making in the video, and your hips jerk forward involuntarily, your cunt touching the curve of her ass.

"Do you like what you see?," she asks, leaning her head back against your shoulder so that her hair tickles your chin.

You can only nod as your eyes focus on what her right hand is doing between her legs. 

She slowly rubs and massages her clit between her thumb and index finger and echoes the throaty moan you're exhaling above her head as your own head hits the bed.

"Fuck, Eve," you whine desperately, your thighs clenching on either side of her legs, and you feel like you've already come undone at the sight in front of you.

She enters herself with the index and middle fingers on her right hand as her left hand squeezes her breasts, alternating between massaging them and flicking their erect nipples. When she starts to pick up the pace with her right hand, she bucks against you, hard, and the pressure being applied between your legs makes you groan again.

"I need to touch you," you whine again, voice getting caught in your throat, as you feel the sweat from her back trickle onto your breasts.

Suddenly, her left hand is running up and down your left thigh, her fingernails digging into your skin, and she is moaning from the rapid, relentless movements of her right hand. When her palm hits her clit, she's keening into your ear, eyes clamped shut, as another orgasm rushes through her body. 

Both of you are panting when you rest your forehead against the back of her head. Her hair is sweaty but you inhale her scent anyway, a scent as familiar to you now as your own. You can feel sweat collect at the base of your neck as your wrists strain above your head.

Your nipples ache, longing to be touched by her tongue or by her fingers, and the throbbing between your legs is overwhelmingly painful.

You raise your knees and both of her hands are rubbing up and down your legs, her fingers still clenching around your muscles as she comes down from her orgasm.

You close your eyes, tears collecting in their corners, and rest your forehead against her left shoulder blade.

"Are you okay?," she whispers quietly, eyes catching your own when you lift your head up and lean forward to press a kiss against the left side of her face.

You reply by pressing a kiss to her shoulder. 

"I'm going to touch you now, okay?," she asks and you nod.

She stands up and removes the restraints from your wrists. You stand up and almost collapse onto the bed after she picks up the towel beneath you and wipes down the inside of your thighs and her own.

"Lie all the way back," she directs and you do as she wants.

"No restraints this time," she informs.

She spreads your legs open and licks her way up the length of both of them, sending shock waves through your body.

"Do you like that?," she asks.

"You know I do," you reply breathily and she groans against your skin.

Your head falls back against the pillow, chest heaving in anticipation as she positions her head between your legs.

Your hips twitch when she flattens her tongue to press against your clit.

It only takes a few seconds of her sucking on your clit and rolling her tongue around it for you to come in her mouth, her name spilling from your lips like each letter was composed of liquid.

"Happy Anniversary, baby," she grins as she crawls up the length of the bed to flop down next to you. 

You close your eyes, nodding, chest rising and falling like a spring storm. "I just need a few minutes. And then I'm going to show you what I can do with that whipped cream."

She laughs into your ear, licking your left earlobe and nibbling before pulling away so she can lean into you, her left arm already winding its way across your waist like wind.

"I'm not tired," you tell her emphatically. "It's our anniversary."

"It's okay to be tired."

"I'm not," you huff.

"Hey."

You look down at her and she smiles again, this time, more softly than before. "We can just fall asleep you know?"

"I bought a cake. It's in the shape of a bus."

She laughs then, a deep, throaty laugh and you laugh, too, realizing the absurdity of what you just said.

"That's...really cute? Why a bus shape? The bathroom shapes were taken?"

You feel your heart expand with her teasing and you lean forward to kiss her.

"Our first kiss."

"You're so romantic," she replies, her fingers clenching your ribcage as she catches your lips between your own.

"You're cold. Wait. Get under the covers with me."

Both of you stand up, a little wobbly, and she laughs when you lift up the covers and chase her beneath them.

"You like me being romantic," you say, eyes locking on hers when you're lying back down.

"I do. And I like it when you want to do the things I want. In the bedroom. I know it's sometimes difficult for you to give up control like that. Was it?"

"No," you shake your head truthfully. "I liked it."

"Even though you couldn't do anything?"

"Yes. I trust you. And...," you add, dropping your voice, "that was very, very sexy."

She laughs at the growl that spills from your lips after you kiss her a little too aggressively. 

"I can tell."

"Where did you come up with the idea to do that? Did you do that with...?"

"Niko? Oh god no. Never."

The coil of jealously threatening to tighten within your belly dissolves.

"Don't be jealous," she says, slight fingers slipping beneath your chin so you can glance at her directly again. "Have you ever let anyone else do that to you?"

"No."

"Have you done that with anyone else? Restrained someone?"

"Yes."

You can feel a slight change in the air and you watch her as she lies back, fingers on her right hand lazily tracing circles around your abdomen like a car doing doughtnuts in an empty parking lot. Your muscles clench beneath her light touch and you start to feel aroused again.

"Don't be jealous," you whisper, cutting the silence.

"I'm not," she adds, a little too quickly.

"Look at me," you instruct and she does.

"You're the best I've ever had."

"Really? You're not just saying that?"

"No. I feel things when I'm with you."

"So romantic," she scoffs, her eyes lighting up with mirth as a smirk saunters across her soft lips.

"I do."

"Well. That's good. Because I do, too. What type of things?"

"When I'm with you, the sun drowns the house."

"You're seriously quoting The 1975 to describe how you feel about me?"

"Yes."

"Okay, that's a really cute lyric? And I feel that way, too. Like the sun drowns the house."

"You understood me perfectly then."

"Yes. I love it when you speak to me in songs. Especially the dirty ones."

Before you can respond, she shifts her body so that she is straddling you and looking down at you. You can feel wetness above your navel from how she is sitting and your breath starts to pick up as her fingers reach for your breasts.

She leans forward, squeezing them, and mumbles into your ear: "How about you show me what you can do with that whipped cream?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The sun drowns the house" lyric is from The 1975 song "Undo."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to user @KarlieWhatYouWant for contributing to this piece by sending over a few one-shot suggestions involving some music from The 1975. This will be a multi-chapter fic including some more of their tracks. Not sure how long or short it will be but I'm grateful for the inspiration! xx


End file.
